You Soar & You Drown
by disorganized-chaos
Summary: Destiel AU. Castiel is an expert at many things, but falling in love...isn't one of them. And when new threats enter his already-tangled up world, all he can do to try to save the people he loves is make one of the hardest decisions of his life. Rated T just to be safe
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first fanfiction, so hopefully you guys like it...please read, review, & enjoy! :) I will make sure to update at least once every day.**

**And now, on with the story~**

* * *

* * * Chapter One * * *

It shouldn't have been hard to hide his wings after so many years of doing it without trying, but it was. They shuddered against their invisible chains, straining to get free, aching with need to stretch out in their full glory. Cas didn't know why it was so hard to control them after hundreds of years of easily hiding them. Maybe it was the strain of being around so many different people who had no idea exactly _what _he was.

Cas tried to remember what Gabriel had taught him, all those thousands of years ago. He could still remember it vividly; his older brother's animated face as he described how to hold his wings in, how to keep them invisible to human eyes. _Pretend that they're not there, that it's just cool air flowing around your back. Yes, that's it, Cassie! Now just hold that feeling. It gets easier with practice, trust me…_

Cas smiled a little at the memory and pulled his trench coat tighter around his body. Outside, the world was a mess of cold gray skies and rainbow-colored umbrellas. Rain shook out from the clouds like the clatter of clear beads falling from a pouch. The school was about a fifteen minute walk, but he was already late, so he quickly zapped there instead and tried to blend in with the mass of students flowing into the front doors.

Almost immediately his wings began to ache with pain, but he gritted his teeth and pushed forwards, pulling his crumpled schedule out of one of his pockets. He had Spanish first. He sighed and pushed the paper back into his trench coat. He could've memorized the language in a minute if he'd wanted to, but Gabe had insisted on him learning it traditionally. He'd wanted to keep Cas preoccupied while he was away on a mission for Heaven, but being back among humans again was hard, after he'd been away for a few centuries.

He found the right classroom and slid into a seat in the very back, slouching down in his seat so anybody walking behind him wouldn't have any good chance of spotting his wings. Immediately he found out he'd placed himself in one of the worst spots imaginable—the pencil sharpener was right behind him. He counted at least a dozen jittery students jostling around behind him in an attempt to improve their already-sharp pencils. His wings strained to be free, but he pushed them back with a wince of pain and tried to concentrate on the paper before him. He was supposed to put his name on the line, but he had to work slowly, remembering that he had to write in English.

"Hey."

The voice came from his right, and it startled Cas so much he almost lost control of his wings. He whipped around to stare at the boy and immediately felt dizzy, like he was supposed to know who he was. He had green-hazel eyes and a smile like barbed wire, but for the most part he seemed friendly. Cas tried for a smile, but his mind was too busy hurtling around, unfocused. The boy's smile immediately shifted into a frown of puzzlement.

"You okay, dude? You look like you're about to be sick."

"I'm fine," Cas mumbled, scribbling something down in response to the questions on the page. They were easier to answer then he expected, after centuries of reading just Enochian.

The boy seemed determined to get him to talk, and Cas had to remind himself that it was just a human's aptitude for curiosity rather then a deliberate attempt to annoy him that urged his words. "I'm Dean Winchester."

"My name's Castiel…" he muttered, slouching down again as he set his pencil down. He calmed his mind, concentrating on keeping his wings in as the teacher began to talk rapidly in Spanish. He understood every word she was saying, but it was clear most of the class was confused after a summer of speaking their respective languages.

He hadn't expected blending in with the human crowd would be so hard. Gabe had made it sound so easy, but he'd been doing it for so much longer then Cas. He didn't want to fail Gabe's expectations of him, though. He was determined not to seem weak and helpless faced with this, this task that most angels incorporated into their daily lives.

Dean fell silent beside him, and the teacher started to explain the rules in English, telling the class that she'd take it slow for a couple of weeks before she expected them to start to understand her more easily. The class lasted for a couple hours, but to Cas it felt like eternity, struggling to keep his wings pinned to his back, struggling to keep attention away from him. When the clock finally turned, he dashed out of the classroom and pressed through the crowd, moving towards the front doors again. He could feel his wings beginning to unfurl and panicked, forgetting to try to keep control. He tried the door of the nearest classroom. Its windows were dark and the door was locked, but as soon as Cas thought about opening it, the door swung open and he dashed inside.


	2. Chapter 2

* * * Chapter Two * * *

"Dean! Hey, Winchester! Over here!"

Dean ignored the voice and pushed through the crowd, following Cas. He was intrigued by the boy with the dark hair and eyes as blue as blue could be. He was going to ask if he wanted to get lunch together or something, but Cas had left before he'd even had a chance to speak. Dean thought about just letting it go and seeing if he had any other classes with Cas, but he felt like he was in too deep to stop.

"Hey, Dean, how was your summer? Where's Sammy?" Somebody called from the left, but he pushed past them and kept following Cas. In truth, his summer had been terrible. He'd been on the run with Sam the whole time, hunting and killing any demon in their path. Their father, as usual, had been away, and it was only by his insistence that they were even in school anyways. Not like he would've noticed if they skipped or anything. He'd left shortly after filling out paperwork for the semester.

The halls emptied out, everybody slowly draining away to either attend their classes or go do something during their break. Dean caught sight of Cas down at the end of the hall, fiddling with a door. For a brief moment Dean thought Cas' hand was shining, but he blinked and then it was gone, and Cas had disappeared into the classroom.

Curious, Dean followed him. The door was only partway open, barely a sliver of the classroom visible from the outside. The blinds were pulled, but Dean could see that the lights were off anyways. Someone was breathing hard inside, gasping, indulgent breaths, inhaling great gulps of air. Dean slid inside quickly and shut the door behind him.

Cas wasn't visible, but Dean knew _something _was in the room because of the two giant black wings stretching out from behind the teacher's desk. Almost involuntarily, he reached into his jacket for demon knife hidden in his pocket. He set his books down gently on one of the desks and crept up to the side of the desk, peering over. Someone was huddled on the other side, almost completely obscured by the giant black wings. Their body shook, and Dean heard the muffled sound of crying from in the cocoon of feathers. And…praying?

"Cas?" He asked, softly.

The wings lifted a little, and he saw the face of his classmate looking up at him, teary-eyed. "D-d-dean?"

Against all his training, Dean dropped his knife and knelt next to him, carefully putting his arms around Cas. Cas dropped his head on Dean's shoulder and cried, mumbling, "I'm a failure," over and over again.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, keeping his voice gentle, soothing.

Cas lifted his face, regaining control of his emotions. Only trembling a little, he said quietly, "I only lasted a few hours. I promised…I promised my brother that I'd try to fit in. How can I go on missions for Heaven if I can't even keep my wings hidden?" His voice hitched a little, and he continued, "It used to be so easy. I don't know what's wrong with me now, but…I can't anymore."

"Do you think you can last ten minutes?" Dean asked him, impulsively getting an idea. "I can get you back home, and then you'll be okay."

"I can last ten minutes," Cas agreed gratefully, standing up and shakily drawing his wings back in, folding them back against his body and hiding them from human eyes again. Dean only caught the faintest imprint of a black feather against his back before he blinked and then it vanished.

"Come on, buddy," he said, picking up the demon knife and hiding it in his jacket again. "Let's get you home."

* * *

**A/N: So in the next couple of chapters, the action will pick up more, but until then, please review, favorite, follow...or do whatever you guys do with stories you like :)**


	3. Chapter 3

* * * Chapter Three * * *

Castiel didn't know what to expect from Dean Winchester. He seemed mostly calm as he steered the car towards Cas' apartment, humming along to Metallica and pretty much ignoring the shaking angel in the backseat. Cas found the reaction oddly pleasing, seeing as it gave him time to study Dean while he wasn't looking. He'd heard the name Winchester often enough in Heaven; now was his chance to finally meet one.

Dean maneuvered the car to the side of the road and parked it in front of Cas' apartment building, leaning over to turn the radio off. Cas took a deep breath, concentrated, and folded his wings in, only wincing a little this time. He smiled proudly to himself and climbed out of the car, following Dean into the building. They took the elevator to the second floor, where Gabe had rented a room for Cas at the very end of the hall. The place was pretty much abandoned—most of the renters were college students, like Cas and Dean, and most of them had classes.

The apartment was bare, with only a framed picture of Cas and a girl that Dean didn't recognize to mark that anyone even lived there. Dean smiled appreciatively and moved over to the cabinets, apparently already hungry.

Something flashed in the corner of Cas' eye, and he turned to see an angel blade pinning a piece of paper to the wall. A mixture of emotions he couldn't identify roiled in his stomach as he pulled the blade from the wall and the paper fluttered into his open hand. From the kitchen, Dean called, "Do you have any pie?"

Cas shook his head absently, his eyes scanning the note that was written in hastily scribbled Enochian. It was probably from Gabe, even though he hadn't bothered to read it yet. Cas sighed and shoved the note into his pocket, turning just as Dean came up to him.

"Are you going to go back to class?" He asked, offering Cas a charred, probably stale bagel. Cas eyed it distastefully and pushed it back towards Dean, shaking his head. "I don't think…no," he sighed, shaking his wings out of his firm grip on them. "I need more practice."

Dean dumped the bagel into the trash and dropped back on the couch, propping his legs up on the arm of Cas' chair. "Well, okay. I wasn't planning on staying anyways."

Cas eyed him thoughtfully. "Won't your parents get mad at you or something?"

Dean stiffened visibly, a protective shield immediately coming down around him. "My parents won't care," he said flatly, folding his arms over his chest. Cas couldn't help but see the barrage of strong images flooding through his mind, broadcasting to the angel as clear as day.

"You mean your father won't care," he said softly, looking down at his feet. "I know how you feel."

Dean looked surprised, a crack in his shield appearing as he let more emotions through. "Really?"

Cas looked up. "Only a few angels have actually seen God, Dean. He's been gone for so long, the rest of us aren't sure if he even exists. That's why…that's why we need faith. Although more and more of us are loosing it."

Dean laughed shortly and flopped back down on the couch again. "Ha. I'm not even sure if you're real. And now you're lecturing me on faith? Maybe I'm just hallucinating you and there really isn't such a thing as angels. Maybe it's just the four-year-old in me wishing some part of Mom back."

Cas couldn't help but feel a twinge of hurt as he said that. He looked at the ground again, wishing Dean could see him as something other then a remnant of his dead mother. "Maybe you just need a little faith, Dean."

"Maybe I do." Dean rolled over so that he was facing Cas instead of the ceiling. "You interest me, Cas. I think I like you."

"You do?" Cas asked, surprised.

Dean laughed at his incredulous expression. "I think…I want to kiss you."

"Are you drunk, Dean?" Cas asked seriously. But part of him secretly hoped he wasn't.

Dean laughed again. "No. It's too early for that." He rolled over to look back at the ceiling. "I dunno, Cas. Whenever I'm close to you, it kind of makes me feel almost…giddy. I can't control it. It's like…I can't describe it."

"Oh…okay." Cas smiled to himself, coming to the realization that he liked Dean, too. It was strange, finding himself crushing on a human—and more importantly, a _Winchester_—before he'd even been here for a day. But maybe that was how it worked, sometimes. Maybe that ache inside him wasn't only because of his wings. Maybe it was because he'd found something he hadn't had for thousands of years.

"Come here, angel boy," Dean said, his eyes not leaving the ceiling. He raised one of his arms and flopped it towards Cas in a gesture that obviously meant, _now._

Cas hesitated, but after a second he cautiously zapped over to the couch, perching on the very edge, like he was about to run. Dean laughed at his edginess and propped himself up on an elbow, using a finger to beckon Cas closer.

Cas bent over Dean, staring directly into his pretty green eyes. He could feel himself blushing, but he couldn't seem to stop. He'd never kissed anyone before, not in his immortal angelic lifetime, and kissing Dean seemed so surreal at the moment he almost thought he was dreaming.

But then Dean did kiss him, and Cas knew that if this was reality, it was better then any other dream he'd ever had. It was like being injected with liquid happiness, although it was painless. Like he'd swallowed a drop of sunshine. Dean smiled against his mouth, and Cas heard himself mumbling, "This is very nice."

It was nice. He'd seen his brothers and sisters kiss people before, but it never seemed very appealing to Cas. But this…was it like this for everyone? Maybe it was just that Dean was a good kisser. Maybe it was just that Cas was more in love then he'd thought he was.

"Have you ever kissed anyone before, Cas?" Dean asked softly, resting his forehead against the angel's. He sounded like Cas felt; breathless, exhilarated, unbearably happy.

"No," Cas answered, pulled into another kiss as Dean cautiously put his arms around him, like he was waiting for permission. In response, Cas kissed him harder, trying to be sure of what he was doing.

Dean was the first to pull away, his head cocked as if he'd heard a noise. "Cas," he said, his voice a low whisper, "Wings. Now."

Cas folded them in obediently, feeling only the slightest twinge of pain as he stood up. Dean reached into his jacket and pulled out a demon knife, which he expertly flipped in his hand as he moved towards the door, still listening.

Now Cas heard it too; a _thunk thunk thunk _as someone moved down the hallway, pounding on different doors, moving on to the next one as quickly as they had left the first. They were only two doors away from Cas' apartment when they turned their head, staring through the door and directly at the place where Cas' wings would have stretched out if they weren't hidden. Almost immediately the human-like eyes flicked to a solid black.

"Demon," Dean breathed, just as it lunged through the door and crashed down on top of him.


	4. Chapter 4

* * * Chapter Four * * *

Sam Winchester was in the middle of a date when he got a call from an unfamiliar number. Since he was currently occupied with kissing his girlfriend, he let it ring until Jess finally reached behind him and picked up the phone just as it stopped ringing. An unfamiliar number blinked on the screen under "Missed Calls".

"Call back," she whispered in his ear, sitting back on the couch. Sam stared mournfully at the phone, contemplating whether or not he should listen to Jess. Finally he redialed the number and mouthed at Jess, "Be right back" as he moved into the tiny kitchen.

"Hello?" An unfamiliar voice asked on the other end of the phone. Sam held back a sigh as he said, "This is Sam Winchester. You…called me a few seconds ago?"

"Dean Winchester's brother?"

Sam gritted his teeth together in annoyance and asked tightly, "Who is this? Why are you calling me?"

"Your—your brother's at my house, and…uh…he told me to call you."

"Why couldn't he call me?" Sam asked, concerned. "Who is this?!"

"My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord," the voice at the end of the line said, and Sam groaned inwardly.

"Listen, if this is funny to you, it's not to me. Please forget this number, okay? Don't call me again."

There was a crackle, like a sigh, on the other end of the line. "If you will not come, Sam, then I will have to get you. Wait—Dean, how do I make the device quiet?"

Sam hung up before the person could continue, and was just about to turn back to the living room when a boy around Dean's age appeared before him, his arm reaching out to touch Sam.

"Whoa!" Sam crashed backwards into the sink and banged his head against a cabinet. Wincing with pain, he swung his fist at the boy, but it sailed through empty air.

"I'm sorry, Sam," the boy said regretfully from right beside him, then he felt the pressure of the boy's hand against his shoulder, and then he was suddenly in an apartment kind of like his, only much neater and emptier. The door was in splinters on the floor, and the body of a demon was lying on the floor, jerking as Dean pulled his knife out of its back.

"Dean!" Sam ran over to his brother, who was bleeding from a long gash on his upper arm. But his older brother just shook his head and looked at Castiel, who appeared right beside him and touched his arm. The gash disappeared.

"Are you—" Sam began, eyes wide.

"I am an angel of the Lord," Cas interrupted, smiling a little.

"So it is—you—" the demon coughed, spitting blood. Its whole body was shaking as it forced out the words. "Castiel…"

The angel nodded curtly, gesturing at Dean to give him the knife. He knelt beside the demon, but it held up a hand to stop him, with the other hand covering its mouth as it coughed again. When it smiled, its teeth were stained with blood.

"We will find you," it said, staring directly into Cas' blue eyes. "We know you are hiding among the humans. Why do you think Gabriel hid you away? He knows we are after you, Castiel. He knows we will destroy you—"

Expressionless, Cas thrust the blade into its throat, cutting the demon off abruptly. Dean stared down at his friend, who looked like he was about to throw up.

"Gabe?" Cas whispered into the air. "Is it true?"

They were silent, everyone waiting—for a sign, a voice to drop out of the air? But the longer they waited, the longer the uncomfortable silence became even more uncomfortable, until Cas finally shook his head. "But why would he _lie _to me?"

Dean looked like he was about to say something, but changed his mind quickly. He glanced over at Sam but turned his gaze back to Cas quickly. Was it Sam's imagination, or was there a red blush creeping up his cheeks?

"So…are you a hunter?" Sam asked awkwardly, trying to break the pensive silence hanging in the room.

"No." Cas stood up and glanced down at the demon's body, sighing. "What am I going to tell Gabe?"

"You don't have to tell him anything, you know," Dean said, placing a hand on the angel's arm. Sam tried to hide his surprise at this—Dean rarely showed gestures of affection like that, especially to people he'd just met. "Come on, it was just one demon. If your brother thinks you're safe, then maybe you should try another few days around here."

Cas nodded uncertainly. "Okay, sure, I guess." His eyes found Dean's, and Sam's older brother blushed again, this time more visibly.

"Can you—uh—zap me back to Jess?" Sam asked suddenly, feeling very awkward standing in between Dean and Cas' intense stares.

Cas whipped his head around to look at him, studying him as if he had just noticed Sam was there. "Yeah, okay." He stepped forwards, but Dean stopped him almost immediately.

"Wait, Cas," he said. "I need to talk to my brother."

**~o)0(o~**

Alone again, Cas sat down on his couch and tugged Gabe's note out of his pocket. He smiled again when he started to read the Enochian, but frowned as he read further into the note. It didn't sound at all like Gabe.

Skipping over the next few sentences, he looked down at the name at the bottom. _Crowley. _Dammit.

"He wants to negotiate a _deal, _Gabe," he whispered into his hands. "He wants my life for the Winchesters'."

How had he found out so quickly? Cas had only met Dean a few hours ago, and Sam only a few minutes. Maybe it was the demon they'd killed. Maybe it had managed to get a message to Crowley before it died.

And what had he done, exactly, to piss off the demon king in the first place?

Cas knew that he didn't want to risk the Winchesters. They were vital in fighting demons and other things off the face of the earth. But he hesitated, because he didn't think that Sam and Dean would go down that easily. And Crowley didn't have as much access to them as he thought. It wouldn't be that easy to get rid of them. The king should've started smaller.

Cas looked up as Dean came back into the room, tugging a tired-looking Sam after him. The angel saw Dean's eyes flick quickly to the paper in his hands, and he shoved it in his pocket before he could say anything.

"Sam, do you want to go back now?" He asked, standing. The other boy nodded, and Cas reached out to grip his shoulder and zapped them back to Sam's place.

"Thanks, Cas," Sam turned around to say, but the angel was already gone.

Dean waited at Cas' apartment for a couple of hours after the angel had left with Sam. He watched a couple episodes of a cheesy TV show, but he wasn't really concentrating on that. Finally, when he noticed the clock on the wall turning to 2:00 P.M., he decided to leave. Looking back one last time at the empty apartment, he propped the broken door against its frame and headed out to the Impala.

* * *

**AND THE PLOT THICKENS...**


	5. Chapter 5

* * * Chapter Five * * *

"Castiel!" Crowley's response to the summoning was almost immediate. "Well, I am pleased to see you."

"How long do I have?" The angel asked between gritted teeth, keeping his back to the demon. Crowley had stepped right into a devil's trap, but it wouldn't be long before some demons came to rescue their king. He didn't have much time to talk.

"Oh, I'd say, maybe until tomorrow evening?" Crowley lazily inspected his nails. They were surprisingly clean—Cas had apparently pulled him from the middle of a torture session, because he was wearing his trademark white apron, stained with fresh blood.

"You know it won't be easy to kill the Winchesters. Not with me protecting them."

"Oh, but Castiel, there is only one of you. And I have _thousands _of demons at my disposal." Crowley smiled carelessly, like he was talking about the weather or something stupid and boring like that. "I'll tell you what. I can start with angels, if you want. Your brothers and sisters and family. I think my demons can handle that." Crowley's voice became almost excited as he exclaimed, "and then we'll go after the Winchesters!"

Cas turned around to kill him right then and there, but the demon was already gone.

* * *

Dean was on his way back to his apartment when his phone buzzed in the empty passenger seat next to him. Swearing softly, he picked it up and flipped it open to the caller ID. Sam. He clicked talk and held the phone up to his ear. Sam didn't even bother with a hello before asking, "Is Cas with you?"

"No. I thought he was with you."

"Well, he's not." Sam's voice was so worried Dean thought about turning around and driving back towards the place Sam and Jess shared.

"Do you…have any way to contact him?" Sam asked.

"Why? What's up, Sammy?" Dean asked, holding the phone up to his ear as he pulled into the parking lot next to his apartment.

"The hospital just called. It's Dad. They think he may be dying."

**~o)0(o~**

Cas didn't want to face Dean again. He didn't want to face Sam. Part of him wanted to go back in time so he wouldn't meet the Winchesters in the first place, but the other, stronger part of him didn't want to forget Dean's face, or the sparkle in his eyes whenever he smiled, or the way his lips had felt when they had pressed against Cas'.

He wanted to see Gabe. He wanted the comfort of his older brother. He wanted to curl up in Gabe's arms and pretend that everything would be okay, that all of Hell wasn't out and hunting him.

Tentatively, Cas sent out a prayer, reaching for Gabriel. _Please, Gabe. I need you. Please come._

He waited for a couple of minutes, listening attentively for Gabe's voice, or for his sudden appearance in the empty apartment. He jumped when he heard a voice fill his mind, but it wasn't Gabriel's.

_Castiel, please. We need your help. Our dad is at the hospital, and he's…he's not waking up. Do you think you could heal him? Or at least try?_

It was Dean Winchester's voice. Cas felt his blood go cold at the mention of their father, but he controlled his anger and stayed on the couch, forcing himself to calm down before standing up and stepping a little ways from the couch. Gabe hadn't responded to his prayers, and probably wasn't going to.

_Where are you, Dean?_

He didn't expect an answer—Dean couldn't hear his thoughts, anyways—but he did get a location. He was in a hospital a few hours away, somewhere in Kansas.

"Why, hello, Castiel. What a pleasure to see you again so soon."

Crowley's voice came from right behind him, and before he had a chance to move, the demon smiled cleverly and a circle of holy fire sprung to life around Cas.

Crowley chuckled at Cas' murderous glare and sipped the glass of liquor he'd brought with him. "I wonder why I don't just kill you now," he mused to himself. He took another sip of the drink and prowled around the circle, his eyes following Cas' every movement.

"Why don't you?" The angel spat angrily, clenching his fists at his sides like he was going to take a swing at Crowley any second.

The demon mocked fake hurt. "Well, Cassie, there's no need to be hostile. But you want to know why?" He leaned closer, careful not to touch the fire. "I enjoy watching you suffer. And maybe I want to see you go down on your knees _begging _before I take you." Crowley's smile was insufferable. "But I can't have you going around saving the people I hurt, can I? That defeats the whole purpose. So you can just stay here like a good little angel until your little Winchester boys come back and find you, wondering why you wouldn't save their poor daddy." The demon stepped back, flicking an invisible piece of dust off of his shoulder. "And you _won't _try to save _anybody_, unless you want them to die all the faster." Crowley paused, taking another sip of his drink. "John Winchester has one week. And then he's dead."

**~o)0(o~**

"He's not answering," Dean groaned, staring at his father's motionless body, hidden by a web of tubes, wires, and machines. His eyes were closed, and he looked…almost peaceful. More relaxed then Dean or Sam had ever seen him.

"Do you have his number, or something?" Sam asked. "I know he has a phone, because he called me from it."

Dean shook his head, cringing from the question. He hadn't had time to ask for Cas' number. They'd gotten to the apartment, kissed, and then the demon had attacked and Sam knew the rest.

"I'll check in my recent calls," Sam suggested, noting the blush hinting on his brother's cheeks and trying not to smile, despite the serious situation. He scrolled through the recent calls on his phone—Jess, Jess, and finally the unfamiliar number that he guessed was Cas'. He clicked on it and pressed the phone to his ear, waiting.

Cas glanced down in surprise as his pocket vibrated and started ringing insistently. He pulled the small silver-and-black object Gabriel had given him from his pocket. He flipped it open, like Dean had told him to, and pressed the "talk" button, like Dean had also told him to.

"HELLO?!" He shouted into the phone, wondering if whoever was on the other side could hear him. "WHO IS THIS?!"

"God, Cas, it's just me," Sam's voice complained on the other end of the line. "You don't need to yell."

"Ohhh-kay." Cas held the phone closer to his ear so he could hear Sam better and asked, "So, why are you…uh…calling me?"

"Our dad—"

"—is in the hospital, yes, I know. I heard Dean." Cas felt his stomach prickle with guilt, but he knew he couldn't do anything has long as the holy fire bound him.

"So…where are you? Can you help us?" Sam's voice was so hopeful, Cas groaned inwardly. He hated disappointing people. He hated that his brother was ignoring his prayers. He _hated _that he was in love with Dean Winchester.

"I can't," Cas whispered into the phone.

"What was that?"

"I _can't. _Crowley caught me and trapped me in holy fire. I…can't move." Cas sat down, hugging his knees to his body with one arm.

"Who the hell is Crowley?" It was Dean's voice this time, and he sounded angry.

"He's a demon."

"But why would he suddenly take an interest in you?" Dean asked, sounding strangely upset.

Cas swallowed the lump in his throat. He wasn't sure if he should tell Dean about the note or not. He wasn't sure how Dean would react if Cas told him that it was _his _fault his father was dying.

"Cas?"

"Dean, I—oh _hell_!" Cas dropped the phone as Gabriel appeared right in front of him, literally two inches away from the holy fire. "Gabe?!"

His brother snapped his fingers and the circle of fire disappeared, leaving the phone (which Cas had dropped right into the flames) smoldering on the floor, and Cas free.

Gabriel sighed in relief and enveloped Cas in a hug, holding onto him tightly as if it'd been years since they had last seen each other. "You don't know how worried I've been, Castiel. The demons could've found you, I was going to check in on you—" He pulled away and his face fell as he saw Cas'. "I take it your first day didn't go so well?"

Cas shrugged dejectedly. "I guess you know about Crowley wanting my head on a plate."

Gabe patted him on the back. "It's okay. I'm protecting you."

"But you don't know about him…killing the angels? And the Winchesters?" Cas lifted his face up to look at his brother's with an expression of confusion. "He told me that until I gave myself up—_willingly—_then he'd keep on killing them."

Gabe groaned. "I'll deal with Crowley, okay? Don't worry. We'll find a way through this. I'm not letting that demon get his hands on you."

Cas tried for a smile, but he knew that he didn't look convincing. "I guess…"

Gabriel grinned at him mischievously. "I'll get those boys of yours, and then we'll go after Crowley."

"Wait—Gabe—their father's already dying. They'll probably blame me for it," Cas protested, but his brother just winked at him, and then he was gone.

Dean clicked "end" on Sam's phone, looking up at his brother as they sat in a shocked silence. Even after a few seconds in the fire, Cas' phone wasn't broken, and the call had continued on. The Winchesters had heard every word spoken between Cas and his brother.

"Crowley?" Sam asked finally. "Wasn't he that obnoxious demon we could never catch? The one who claimed he was king of Hell?"

"And he's after Cas," Dean said, shaking his head.

"That's right," a familiar voice said from behind them, and they turned around just in time to see a smiling face before they were back in Cas' apartment. But there was no sign of the angel.

"Oh, damnit," the Trickster sighed, disappearing again. A few seconds later, he was back with Cas, who was tugging on his arm insistently, trying to pull out of Gabriel's hard grip. He saw the Winchesters staring at them, and immediately Dean saw the guilt in the blue of his eyes. Dean wanted to take Cas' hands in his and pull him close, and then reassure him that it was okay between kisses, but he resisted the urge and glanced down at the floor, suddenly red with embarrassment.

But Sam was hot with indignance. "_This _is Gabriel?! The Trickster! Remember, Dean?!" He turned back to his brother, who glanced up from the floor reluctantly. "Mystery Spot?"

"Oh, right." Dean glared at the angel, who just shrugged and grinned, pulling a lollipop out of one of his pockets and sticking it in his mouth.

"Gabe, I'm…going to go to the hospital," Cas muttered to his brother. "I think I can heal John."

"Are you sure?" Gabriel's expression changed from mischievous glee to brotherly concern. "I thought Crowley said—"

Cas glared daggers at his brother, shutting him up immediately. "I'll be right back, okay?"

"But he told you not to—"

"That's right, I thought I did," Crowley said, appearing in front of Cas. "I was _very _specific, too."

Dean reached into his jacket, feeling for the demon knife and pulling it out. Gabriel shot him a warning look, and Sam reached a hand out to stop him, but before either of them could do anything the knife flew out of Dean's hand and impaled itself in the kitchen wall.

"None of that, Winchester," Crowley said sweetly, stepping closer to Cas. The angel immediately zapped next to the Winchesters, pulling his angel blade out in fierce determination, but Crowley just laughed. "Do you know how many demons I have posted outside this building? You make one move, and I could have all of them in here with just a snap of my fingers. The Winchesters would be dead in seconds."

Cas nodded almost invisibly at Gabriel, then zapped closer to Dean so they were barely three inches apart, grabbed a fistful of his jacket, and disappeared. Gabriel gripped Sam's arm and they vanished.

**~o)0(o~**

When Cas woke up, his face was pressed into a book, and he'd fallen asleep in an uncomfortable position. His neck ached annoyingly, and the human-like pain startled him. He jerked upright, only to find himself alone in a dark motel room that looked like a paper hurricane had blown through. Maps, newspaper articles, and notes littered the ground and were pinned up on the walls. It looked exactly the opposite of Cas' neat, empty apartment.

As he stood up, stretching, someone suddenly started knocking at the door. His heart leaped, and for a second, he thought, _Dean! _and ran over to the door, throwing it open before he had a chance to reconsider. It wasn't Dean at the door. A hooded figure stood before him, all of his or her features thrown into darkness. Only the glint of colorless eyes revealed that there was a person under the hood at all.

"Hello, Castiel," a familiar voice said, and with one gesture, Lucifer swept the hood off and grabbed Cas' wrist with one hand, the other one suddenly holding an angel blade. Cas tugged against his older brother's strong grip, terrified, but he already knew it was useless. Lucifer brought the blade up, drawing it lightly across Castiel's jawline.

"Well, hello, brother. This will be fun."

**~o)0(o~**

Cas woke up screaming.

Dean was the only one in the room when Cas jolted awake, sweating and crying out, clawing his shirt open as if there were something there. Dean ran over from his position on the couch and sat down next to the angel, pulling him into a hug and awkwardly running his hand up and down Cas' back until he stopped shaking as violently, and his tears started to dry up.

Dean rubbed his hand against the angel's back, but stopped when Cas made a moaning sound and shuddered. Then, without warning, his wings burst from his back, right where Dean had been touching, and knocking the hunter off the bed.

"S-s-sorry Dean," Cas hiccuped, trying to fold his wings in again, but he was too distraught to focus his control on them.

"Don't do that again, Cas," the hunter groaned, pulling himself up laboriously. He froze right when the angel came back into view; Cas was staring down at his chest, where there were several long, bloody cuts slicing through his skin.

"What the hell happened?" Dean breathed, not waiting for Cas' answer before running to the bathroom for the first aid kit. When he got back, Cas was sliding his hands along the cuts, a confused expression twisting his mouth adorably. Dean blushed furiously as he caught himself thinking that and tried to push the thoughts away, hiding his face behind the kit as he approached Cas.

"I don't understand," the angel said as Dean sat down on the edge of the bed and opened the kit. "I can't heal these wounds."

"Maybe your angel mojo is just drained out or something."

"My 'angel mojo' as you call it does not just '_drain out_'." Cas glanced over at the bandage rolls in Dean's hands and then looked away quickly, wincing as the slices along his chest and stomach shifted.

"Come here," Dean instructed, not looking away from the kit as he searched through it for some medicine. Cas moved over, opening his mouth to ask a question, but suddenly seeming to reconsider.

"Take off your shirt."

"What?"

"I need to be able to get to the cuts, okay?" Dean looked down again to hide his red cheeks, suddenly finding the beige bedspread intensely fascinating. Cautious, he gently placed his hand on Cas'.

Cas stared at Dean's hand, looking at it as if it were alien. His pretty blue eyes flicked to the first aid kit, then they darted back to fix on Dean's face. The Winchester felt his breathing speed up, his eyes moving from Cas' lips to his eyes, trying to decide which was better to focus on.

"Dean?" Cas asked, his voice unsteady. His face was inches from Dean's—if he wanted, he could just smash their lips together, like before.

"Cas," Dean breathed, discarding all self control as he gently pulled Cas' lips to his own. After a moment of pause, the angel kissed back, letting go of his own self control. Dean held him carefully, making sure not to touch the sensitive cuts along his stomach and chest. Cas was gentle too, as if he were unsure of himself, but after a few minutes he gave in and let Dean take control.

* * *

**Oooh, this chapter's a long one...almost 3,000 words. I'm proud of myself**


	6. Chapter 6

* * * Chapter Six * * *

"It's nice to see you again, Samsquatch," Gabriel said cheerfully as he popped another piece of candy in his mouth. "Lollipop?"

"Uh…sure," Sam agreed awkwardly as he unwrapped the cherry lollipop Gabe handed him. "Where are Dean and Cas?"

"Oh, I just took a little detour." Gabriel grinned. "I'm sure they're fine and dandy back at the hotel room."

"So, you're an angel," Sam said, changing the subject as he leaned back on his side of the booth. Gabe had zapped them to a secluded restaurant and hidden them in the back, where there weren't many people to observe them.

"Yep."

"You don't exactly _act _like one."

Gabriel leaned across the table and stared at Sam directly in the eye, almost like a challenge. "And how are angels supposed to act, then?"

"You're a dick," Sam muttered, sucking on the lollipop.

"A dick with candy," Gabriel corrected, sounding very pleased with himself.

"I'm not a fan of cherry," Sam smirked, looking down at Gabriel's disappointed face. Almost instantly he felt guilty. Those pretty brown eyes were boring holes into his soul. "But…I do like lemon."

Gabriel's face broke into a grin. "Can do." Immediately his mouth was filled with the sweet taste of lemon candy, and when he pulled out the lollipop it was yellow, not red.

A waitress appeared at Sam's side, a cheerful smile plastered on her face. "Would you guys like anything to drink?"

"Uh, no thanks," Sam declined politely, but Gabriel grinned devilishly and ordered a couple beers and a burger.

"I thought angels didn't need to eat."

"This one enjoys a snack now and then."

The waitress gave them a weird look and sauntered away towards the kitchens, leaving them alone to talk again. Sam sucked away at his candy, and Gabriel pulled another one from his pocket and stuck it in his mouth.

"So, Samwich. How's the weather up there?" He asked, quirking his eyebrows.

"Very funny," Sam muttered, twisting the lollipop stick between his fingers. "Won't Dean and Cas be worried about us?" He asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Nah. I already told Cas where we were, and he'll sure as anything tell Dean." Gabe leaned in again, like a teenage girl about to spill a secret. "You know, they like each other. Probably already kissed. I bet they'll have sex within the week."

Sam grinned at the angel. "Within a month."

"A bag of candy for the winner?"

"You're on."

Gabriel leaned back again, looking satisfied with himself. "I'm telling you, I'm going to win this one…"

"It's highly unlikely," Sam retorted, fiddling with the broken lollipop stick. He accepted another one from Gabriel and stuck it in his mouth as the waitress came back with the angel's food and beer.

"Is that all for you guys?" She asked sweetly, glancing over at Sam.

"Uh, I think we're good," he said, and she nodded, moving on to the next table.

"Why'd you do that?" Gabe asked, somehow managing to look disappointed through his mouthful of burger. "I wanted more beer."

"You'll get drunk if you get anymore," Sam argued, looking pointedly at the five bottles lined up on Gabe's side of the booth. In truth, he didn't know how strong an angel's metabolism was, but he really didn't want to find out when he still didn't know where they were and his only hope of getting back to Dean and Cas was Gabriel. "And how, exactly, are we paying for this?"

"Oh, right…" Gabe said sheepishly, swallowing the rest of his burger and washing it down with another mouthful of beer. "I think it's time to go, Samsquatch…"

"Damn you, Gabriel!" Sam hissed through his teeth as the angel got ahold of his arm again and zapped him, along with three bottles of beer, to an almost-empty motel room. 'Almost-empty' because Cas and Dean were on one of the beds, kissing passionately.

"Oh, shit," Gabriel whispered, grabbing Sam again. They zapped to another motel room, one that was _actually _empty, and Gabe finally released Sam.

"Did you know that was going to happen?" The Winchester asked, wrinkling his nose.

Gabriel cackled with laughter. "Of _course. _I'm telling you, Sammy, sex within the week."

"Don't call me that."

"Okay, Sammy."

Sam groaned and fell back on one of the beds, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He heard Gabriel set down the remaining bottles with a quiet _chink, _then the angel flopped down beside him.

That was when he sensed something was wrong. Because the _chink _hadn't been from the beer bottles. And the bed was suddenly growing wet with a big scarlet stain that blossomed out from Gabe's body like a flower. Sam cautiously reached into his jacket for the demon knife that he'd picked up when Crowley had impaled it in the wall. He kept his eyes trained on the ceiling. He knew whatever it was would try to kill him too, so he needed to pretend he didn't know anything was wrong.

There was a quiet sound to his right, like a small, muffled thump. Sam's fingers curled around the hilt of the knife.

In one fluid motion, he pulled it out of his jacket and slammed it into the wall beside the bed, right where he'd assumed the thing would be.

He'd been wrong to assume that the demon was going to try to kill him.

It was already gone.


	7. Chapter 7

* * * Chapter 7 * * *

"Well, hello, boys."

Cas jolted away from Dean when he heard the familiar voice. Dean was swept off the bed by Cas' wings, sent to the floor groaning as the angel stood up, blade in hand.

"Crowley," Castiel growled, holding his arms so the demon wouldn't see the bloody gashes crossing his chest. "What do you want?"

The demon chuckled a little, laughing at Cas' expression. "Oh, no need for that, Cassie. I've only come to give you news."

At that moment, the door flew open, and Sam stumbled in, dragging Gabriel's motionless body behind him. Cas' mouth flew open in shock, and he gasped out, "Gabriel?"

"Who else?" Crowley moved over to the adjoined kitchen and examined a lonely, half-empty wine bottle sitting on the counter. "Well, Winchesters, I can't exactly say anything for your terrible choices in wine."

"Shut up," Sam growled. He looked really upset about Gabe's situation, more distraught then Dean would have pegged him to be.

"Heal him," Cas added, his pretty blue eyes shooting daggers at Crowley.

"Nope," Crowley said nonchalantly. "He has three days." The demon disappeared.

"Assbutt," Castiel muttered, still glaring at the spot Crowley had been seconds ago.

Dean coughed, obviously trying to hold back a laugh. "_Assbutt_?"

"This isn't funny, Dean," Cas said angrily, turning his glare on the older Winchester.

"Nope—nope—sorry, Cas," Dean chuckled, coughing again. "Sorry."

Cas dropped down beside his brother and ran his hands over the stab wound. The bleeding slowed, and the wound closed up a little, but not completely—not enough to be safely healed.

"We should get him to the hospital," Sam suggested.

Cas turned a disbelieving stare on him. "No. We can't. If they tried to do an X-ray or perform surgery on him, or something like that, then they'd figure out that he wasn't human. I haven't been on Earth for hundreds of years, but I know that if humans find something that is different, they'll lock it up and experiment on it. It would only make things worse for Gabe."

Dean knelt on the other side of Gabriel, still holding the first aid kit. "Well then, let's try to bandage this up the old-fashioned way." He opened the kit and held up a roll of gauze. "Let's get going."

**~o)0(o~**

Cas was back in the room he'd been in before, the messy one with all the notes and maps and drawings. He now recognized the handwriting as his own, but the notes weren't in English—they were in Enochian. They mostly read things about angels and that sort of thing, though one piece of paper was just the words, _HELP ME! _scrawled hurriedly in scarlet.

Lucifer was sitting on the bed, wearing jeans and a faded T-shirt splattered with blood. He was examining his nails, acting oblivious to Cas' presence. After five minutes of sitting in terrified silence, Lucifer finally looked up and stared directly into Castiel's eyes. "Hello again, little brother." Suddenly, an angel blade appeared in his hand. He started to use it to file his nails.

Cas couldn't make his mouth form sounds, or even words. He just sat there staring at the other angel, too scared to speak.

"Are we ready?" Lucifer spoke condescendingly, like he was talking to a child.

"Stay away from me," Cas said, his voice uneven. He cursed himself for not being able to keep the fear out of his voice and said in a steadier voice, "or I'll be forced to kill you."

"You? Kill _me_?" Lucifer's laugh filled the whole room. He finally looked at Cas, and when their eyes locked, Cas felt himself start to shake again. He knew Lucifer could sense his uneasiness, but he tried not to think about that as he looked around the room for a weapon. Suddenly everything was curvy and round, with no sharp edges—nothing he could use against Lucifer. The only thing sharp enough to hurt someone was the angel blade in his brother's hand.

The old gashes were just scars now, remains of his last encounter with Lucifer, but they burned like hell now that he was facing the other angel again. It was like they were conscious of Lucifer's presence, which really scared Cas. And he knew that just like the other dream, Lucifer would take it upon himself to torture Cas again.

How long would these dreams go on for? How many more nights? Weeks? Years? It was strange how they'd begun only when he'd met the Winchesters. He'd been on Earth two days before he'd started school and met them, and neither times had he felt the need to either sleep or dream.

"Lucifer, please, stop," Cas heard himself beg as he backed away from his advancing brother. He hit the wall and cowered, the shreds of his pride vanishing as he tried to protect himself from his brother's blows. But it was useless, useless, and he couldn't think with all the screaming—

**~o)0(o~**

"Cas, Cas, wake _up!_" Sam shook the angel as hard as he could. Cas' eyes flew open, glossy with tears.

"Lucifer," he gasped, panting. "Lucifer, he—"

"Shh, shh, it's okay, Lucifer isn't here." Sam felt a lot like a parent reassuring a child after a nightmare, but he would do anything to get Cas' awful screams out of his head.

It was around 10:00 A.M. Dean had gone out to get some breakfast, leaving Sam alone with Gabriel and Castiel, who had fallen asleep on the couch. At 9:52, ten minutes after Dean left, Cas had started screaming, and Sam had run into the living room to see a dark figure hovering over Cas, angel blade in hand. As soon as Sam ran in, it disappeared, leaving Cas shaking and crying out on the couch, eyes still tightly squeezed shut. Blood soaked the front of his white shirt.

"My body—it hurts so much," Cas whispered, grasping at Sam's arm. "It hurts, Sam. It hurts." To the Winchester's complete surprise, the angel started to cry quietly. It really disturbed Sam to see him break down like that, but he guessed since it was the first time the angel had experienced pain this intense, it was only to be expected.

"Here, I'll fix you up," Sam reassured him, running for the first aid kit. As he grabbed it off the kitchen counter, he dug his cell phone out of his jeans, searched the contacts for Dean's number, and dialed it quickly. As he walked back to the couch, he listened to it ring until he finally got Dean's voicemail.

"Shit," Sam muttered. "Shit, shit, shit. Okay, listen, Dean, I need you back here right now. Cas—"

Suddenly, he felt a strong hand grip his arm, and Cas said firmly, "Don't tell him, Sam. Please don't tell him."

Sam nodded, surprised, but he finished, "It's just pretty ugly over here, okay? Call back as soon as you can." He clicked 'end' and tossed the phone on to the table carelessly. Gently, he unbuttoned Cas' shirt and pushed it out of the way to examine his chest. The gashes from yesterday were gone—only thin white scars remained. But more serious cuts were layered over that, ones that dug frighteningly deep into Cas' skin.

"Oh my god, Cas," Sam breathed, digging out more bandages from the kit. "What the hell happened to you?"

The angel groaned as Sam pressed gauze over his cuts. "Lucifer…"

Sam decided to ask questions later and carefully wound the bandages around Cas' cuts, making sure to be gentle. They sat in awkward silence as Sam worked until Cas finally asked, "How long has Dean been gone?"


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Ehh, I'm kinda iffy about the way this chapter came out, sooo...please tell me what you thought? The song in this chapter is You Ain't Seen Nothing Yet by Bachman-Turner Overdrive.**

* * *

* * * Chapter Eight * * *

"And _that _was for my pie," Dean panted, pulling his knife out of the last demon. He wiped the blood off on the dead man's jacket looked over at his car, which was still blaring music.

**I met a devil woman/She took my heart away**

They'd ambushed him just as he was about to leave the small drugstore that was stranded along the desolate road. The funny thing was, though, they hadn't been trying to kill him. Dean had earned some nasty cuts from their knives, but they hadn't aimed for any vital places like the throat or heart. It was weird, but it had given Dean the advantage as he set about killing them.

**She said, I've had it comin' to me/But I wanted it that way**

Dean got back in the Impala, gingerly setting down the crushed pie he'd been using as a weapon for the first five seconds of the fight. "Dammit," he hissed again, spitting more curses as he impaled himself on the car keys and wiped blood on the Impala's newly cleaned seats.

"They will _pay _for hurting my baby," he muttered to himself as he pulled out of the lot, heading back towards the motel. He glanced over quickly at the pie, wondering if he should buckle it in. He shook his head and cranked up the music, humming along loudly.

**I think that any love is good lovin'/So I took what I could get, mmh**

"Hello, Dean."

"Fucking hell, Cas!" Dean yelled, swerving as he tried to keep the car on the road. "Get your ass off the damned pie!"

Cas cocked his head in confusion, but zapped to the backseat and set his chin on the side of Dean's headrest. "I don't understand…"

"Oooh, are you okay, baby?" Dean cooed to the pie, ignoring the angel. He swore again as he felt Cas' lips press against the stubble on his cheek. "What the hell, Cas?! You're going to make me crash!"

Cas smiled in amusement and sat back, readjusting his shirt so it didn't rub against the bandages. Since he'd ruined his white shirt, Sam had given him one of Dean's band shirts to wear. This one was dark gray with only AC/DC on the front, so it was easy to hide the gashes, but Cas was still worried about Dean figuring it out.

**Oooh, oooh she looked at me with big brown eyes/and said**

"You ain't seen nothin' yet," Dean sang, loud and off-key. "B-b-b-baby, you just ain't seen n-n-nothin' yet…"

Cas laughed at him as he continued to sing loudly and tap out the beat on the steering wheel. After a couple more verses he yelled, "C'mon Cas, be a man! Let it go!"

"I don't know this song," Cas said quietly, shifting uncomfortably in the backseat.

"Oh, whatever!" Dean laughed, humming another verse. "C'mon!"

Cas nodded uncertainly and began to sing along, quiet at first, but louder as Dean's enthusiasm increased.

"**Here's something, here's something you're never gonna forget**

**Baby, you know, you know, you know you just ain't seen nothin' yet**

'**You need educatin'**

**You got to go to school'**

**Any love is good lovin'**

**So I took what I could get**

**Yes, I took what I could get**

**And then, and then, and then—"**

Here Dean stopped singing for a second and turned around, grinning at Cas. "He looked at me with them big blue eyes," he sang, and Cas blushed, smiling.

"I love you, Dean," he said quietly.

Dean stopped singing and pulled over to the side of the road suddenly, then turned in his seat and looked back at the angel, who was a bright tomato color. "What?"

"Nothing—"

"Oh, shut up, you big baby," Dean grinned. "I love you too, Cassie."

"_Don't _call me that," Cas said fiercely, acting like he was angry, but he was really bursting inside with excitement. Dean _loved _him? How did he even have that kind of luck?

Dean leaned closer to Cas and lightly pressed his lips against the angel's. Cas closed his eyes and kissed back just as gently, reveling in the few moments of peace.

"Cas?" Dean asked, pulling away and opening his own eyes. "Why are you wearing my shirt?"

The angel looked down and blushed. "Ahh, um, I kinda ruined mine and Sam's didn't fit, so…"

"No, I like it on you," Dean said, smiling at Cas. "It fits you, Angel."

"I like it when you call me that," Castiel muttered against the Winchester's mouth as he leaned in for another kiss. The song they'd been singing together switched off and "Carry on Wayward Son" started to play.

**Carry on my wayward son/There'll be peace when you are done**

Dean mumbled a noise of annoyance and reached back to turn the song off, saying, "I hate this one."

Cas stopped him with another kiss, and Dean groaned with pleasure. "I like it."

"Anything for you, then," Dean said, twisting the volume knob to turn the music up.

**Lay your weary head to rest/Don't you cry no more**

"We should be getting back," Cas muttered five minutes later. "Sam's worried."

"I don't care," Dean breathed against his mouth, sounding almost drunk with pleasure. Cas pulled away reluctantly, staring into the half-lidded green eyes of the Winchester.

"Really, though, Dean. Your brother thinks you were caught by Crowley."

Dean nodded sadly, turning around and steering the car back onto the road. He looked back at Cas, who was leaning back against the seat contentedly, then patted the passenger seat next to him, moving the pie out of the way.

"C'mere, Angel," he said. "We'll be back at the motel in five minutes."

Cas smiled at Dean and clambered over the seats, sitting down next to the other boy. "Are your parents…ah…aren't they worried about you two?"

Dean's face fell immediately. He stared straight ahead at the road, accelerating the Impala's speed way over the limit. "My mom's dead," he said stonily. "And my dad…he's never around anyways."

They sat in silence until Dean finally pulled into the empty parking lot and got out, carrying the pie and a couple other food items he'd bought to sustain them for at least two or three days. Cas followed him back into their room, which was eerily quiet. Gabe's body was still sprawled over the chair, no signs of blood leaking out through the thick bandages. The couch where Cas had slept was dark with water in some places where Sam had probably scrubbed it to get the bloodstains out. But there was no sign of the younger Winchester.

"Sammy!" Dean's voice was slightly unsteady with fear. When he didn't get a response for the next three minutes, he shouted in an almost angry tone, "Samuel Winchester!"

Cas walked through the kitchen and into the bedroom. His heart stuttered and he almost choked with anger. Sam was sprawled over one of the beds, his chest dark with blood. Cas ran over and pressed two fingers against the Winchester's pulse—he was still alive. Crowley was giving the angel time to decide whether or not Sam would live. Cas ripped Sam's shirt open and examined the wounds—several gashes across his chest, and probably a blow to the head, strong enough to knock him into a coma. Cas pressed his hand over Sam's cuts, opening the door to his power and letting it flow out into Sam. The bleeding stopped and the wounds scabbed over, but besides that, nothing happened. Sam remained unconscious.

"Come on," Cas whispered, gritting his teeth as he poured more power into Sam. Someone's heavy steps thudded into the room, but he ignored them and focused on healing the younger Winchester.

Nothing happened.

Someone was shouting his name, and suddenly he felt really, really weak. His head connected with the floor, and he felt his eyes close slowly.

Crowley's voice echoed in his mind: _two down, one to go._


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Aww, you guys are in for a lot of pain this chapter...**

* * *

"Hello, Castiel."

"_Uriel_?" Cas was back in the room from his dreams, the one he'd seen Lucifer in ever since meeting the Winchesters. But this time, instead of his evil older brother, Uriel was here to greet him.

The other angel rolled his eyes. "Obviously."

"But why are you here?" Cas asked, immensely confused. This was the place of his nightmares. How did Uriel manage to incorporate himself into them?

"You see, somebody has been killing angels," Uriel began. "And don't worry, because we know it's not you. It's Crowley."

Cas perched nervously in his wooden chair, staring at the other angel, waiting nervously for him to continue.

"You see, we've been creating these dreams for you. To see if you were the reason for these killings. And the thing is, Lucifer has quite a talent for getting things out of you." For a second, Uriel's face flickered into Satan's, and Cas flinched. It changed back almost immediately and the other angel continued. "We can't kill you in your dreams, but we will find you. Gabriel has hidden you for now, but if the demon king could find you, then so can we."

"You're going to…kill me? To stop Crowley?" Cas felt his voice tremble. "Why the hell would you do that?"

"So many of us dead," Uriel said, looking like he was lost in memories. "So many of us gone because of a petty demon."

"Why not just kill him?" Cas asked desperately.

"Oh, but Castiel," Uriel said, smiling cruelly. "You're just _such _an easy target. Sorry, Cas, but you're going to hell."

Cas woke up with Dean yelling his name and slapping his cheeks. He distantly noticed that he was freezing cold and wet, but he couldn't find it in himself to care.

"What happened?" He muttered, trying to sit up, but he was pushed back down.

"You fainted." The boy's voice resonated in Cas' mind as he struggled to surface from his dream. "Hey, Cas, buddy, you okay?"

"Dean…" he said, shaking his head to rid himself of the dream. "Is Sam…is he okay?"

There was a moment of silence, and then Dean said, "he's…uh…he's resting. He'll be fine."

Cas felt his mind clear up and smiled at the Winchester. "Good. Can I see him?"

"No. Uh, no, that's probably not a good idea. He's not here right now. But I'll take you to see him soon, if you want." Dean's voice was nervous, and Cas felt a foreboding feeling creep over him. Dean was lying, he just knew it, but he didn't want to call the Winchester out right now. He had things to do.

**~o)0(o~**

Cas carefully drew another angel warding symbol on the windows, finishing the wards that would (probably) keep them safe for a little while—enough time for Cas to try to figure out how to kill Crowley. He started on the salt next, doing all the windows, doorways, anything he could find that might be an entrance to the house. He spray-painted devil's traps all over the floors and in both the front and back entryways. He was so concentrated on his work that when Dean came up behind him and said his name loudly, he accidentally dumped a bag of salt on his head.

From behind him he could hear Dean laughing, but he tried to ignore the Winchester as he spat out salt and combed it out of his hair with his fingers.

"Come here, Cas, let me help," Dean said, still laughing at the angel's expression. He pushed on Cas' shoulders to make him sit down and wound his fingers through Cas' dark hair, scraping out most of the salt. Cas smiled softly and closed his eyes, liking the feel of Dean's hand rubbing over his skin.

"Now," Dean said softly, lips almost touching Cas', "I want you to tell me everything you've been hiding from me."

"What?!" Cas jerked, just enough so his lips accidentally touched Dean's. Willing himself not to be lost in the moment, Cas pulled away again and tried for an angry expression, utterly failing. "What do you mean?"

Dean gestured around them. "The angel wardings, the salt, the devil's traps—you're trying to keep out both angels _and _demons. And while you were unconscious, I saw the new marks on your chest. What the hell is going on, Cas? I thought we weren't keeping secrets from each other."

"Then why didn't you tell me Sam _isn't _fine?" Cas retorted. "I saw him. His wounds are gone, but he's still unconscious. Which means Crowley still has a hold on him."

"Look, Cas, I told you that because I didn't want you to think it's your fault." Dean's voice was anguished. "You tried as hard as you could to heal him. I could practically see your grace pouring into Sam. It's _not your fault. _Crowley did this."

"Yeah, okay," Cas muttered dejectedly, turning his eyes down to the floor. He flicked his hand and the salt crystals disappeared, leaving the stained wooden floor polished clean. Dean gently raised his head and cupped it in his hands as he kissed the angel, long and slow. Cas kept his eyes open so he could stare into Dean's green ones and pretend everything was all right.

"No more secrets, Dean," he whispered against the Winchester's mouth. He pulled away and gazed into Dean's pretty green eyes, resolving that he wasn't going to pull his lover into this any more. No matter what Dean said, Castiel wasn't going to risk him any further.

"The dreams I've been having…the marks on my chest…it's the angels," Cas explained, sighing. "Crowley has been murdering them too. And the others are angry. They think it's my fault—Dean, please don't," Cas said, looking down at the floor as he saw the frustration and anger in the Winchester's eyes. "I know what you're going to say. It won't change their minds anyway. They think by killing me, Crowley will stop. So they're after me too. And soon enough, Crowley will come after you as well, try to take you down. I'm trying to protect you, Dean, but maybe it would be better if I just left anyways." Castiel continued to stare at the floor, examining every grain of wood and analyzing every bit. He waited for Dean to respond, but it was almost as if the room was empty besides Cas. Maybe Dean had left—how long had he been staring at the floor for, exactly? The angel looked up, expecting to see Dean's face level with his, but those intense green eyes weren't there. Cas shifted his gaze downwards, and there was Dean, slumped against the floor unconscious, Crowley's mark scrawled across his chest in blood.

Cas just stared at him. He just stared and stared and stared. He might have been sitting there for hours, he didn't know. He just couldn't comprehend it. Dean, who had seemed so full of life and emotion just a few minutes…hours…ago. They'd kissed, and it'd made all of the complications in Cas' life vanish suddenly. Dean Winchester had become his one constant thing over the past week, the one thing Cas could depend on, and now it was gone.

_John. Sam. Gabriel. Dean. They're all dying. Just because I wasn't willing to…_ Cas swallowed and forced himself to turn his eyes away from Dean. _Just because I was too cowardly to die._

Cas finished arranging Dean on the bed in the most comfortable position he could manage for the unconscious Winchester, then the angel went into the kitchen and set to work. He used soapy water to sponge the angel sigils and devil's traps off the floors and windows. He used his "angel mojo" as Dean called it to wipe out the salt barriers and the other various angel/demon traps he'd set up around the cabin. He moved Sam and Gabe, who were in the living room, to where Dean was in the bedroom, then he set up that room with all the various traps he'd been using on the house—salt, angel wardings, everything. At least they would be protected.

Then Castiel went into the living room and waited. He sat on the couch and patiently waited. He wanted to see who would find him first—the angels or the demons. Or maybe they'd come at the same time.

After a day and a half of waiting, he was done. He set up the summoning things, said the spell, and stood there with a demon knife in hand, ready to kill the evil son of a bitch.

Crowley appeared right behind Cas, which the angel wasn't expecting. He swung around, aiming for the king of hell's head, but Crowley effortlessly dodged him and said causally, "I wouldn't be doing that if I were you. Without me, your friends will never wake up. With me dead and you alive, the spells to heal them will never be activated."

"Fine." Cas tossed the knife to the side, where it impaled itself in the wall. "Then please, please kill me. I just want…" he swallowed, trying to keep his voice from cracking, "I just want them to be okay."

"No."

"No? No what?"

"I am not going to kill you." Crowley smirked and sat down in an armchair, still managing to look casual. The skies outside reflected Cas' emotions right now—pitch black with darkness and anger. Crowley's skies would probably be gray and emotionless.

"Why the hell not?" Cas snapped, unable to control his anger. His voice came out in a feral growl, one that he'd never used before, not even with Lucifer or any of the other angels or demons or _anything. _"WHY WON'T YOU FUCKING KILL ME, YOU SON OF A BITCH?!"

(He'd picked up a few things from Dean.)

Crowley smirked. "Because I think he wants his turn first." He disappeared.

_What? _Cas thought, confused. _Who-?_

A cold hand suddenly clapped over Castiel's mouth. He tried to struggle against it, but it was too strong. Someone's arm encircled his chest and plunged an angel blade right through his heart. The angel holding him eased him down gently, so he hit the floor without a sound. "Quiet, now," he hissed in Cas' ear. "Your friends are waking up and we don't want to have them listen to your screams, now do we?"

Castiel could hear shouting from behind the bedroom door where he'd locked the Winchesters and Gabriel in, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He had maybe three minutes before he died, one of which would be spent in unconsciousness. Probably. Cas didn't want Dean to watch him die.

He felt the presence of another angel enter the room, and then Gabriel's voice shouted, "Raphael!" and the angel who'd stabbed him disappeared.

"Castiel, no," his brother whispered as he stroked Cas' hair back from his eyes. "Please, Cassie, don't die on me. Please don't die."

"Tell Dean…I love him," Cas whispered, choking on his blood. "Tell him…I wouldn't have wanted it…to end."

"Cas! Don't talk like that!" The dying angel felt the other's tears drip on to his face as Gabriel scooped him into his lap and clutched him tightly.

His brother held him as he died.


	10. Chapter 10

* * * Chapter Ten * * *

"Crowley had never touched the angels. The king of hell had made them a deal. He got Castiel in hell, and they got to have the demons leave them alone for the next five hundred years. It wasn't a high price to pay—for him, of course."

* * *

Dean Winchester stared at the ceiling numbly, clutching a mug of coffee and listening dully to the quiet background noise of the TV. Sam had thrown a blanket over him before he left for school, but Dean couldn't quite register the feeling of it against his legs and chest. He just lay there on the couch, like he had been for the last four months since Cas died. Nothing had disturbed them—no angels, no demons, nothing. Nobody called about cases. Sam still bought the local newspaper, but there was nothing suspicious in there, nothing.

_They're probably all down in hell. Torturing my angel._

Gabriel had told them about the deal the angels had made with Crowley before he left. He'd also taken Dean aside and told him what Cas had said. He'd remained dry-eyed the whole time, which really surprised him, but soon after that the tears came, when he was lying in bed and he rolled over to plant a sleepy kiss on Cas' lips, but he wasn't there. When he went into the living room to invite Cas to go out for a beer, and the angel wasn't sitting on the couch. When he expected to hear Cas blundering around trying to adjust to the human ways, and when he listened and there was nothing, that was when the tears came. Great big tubs of them. But somehow he never ran out. Dean Winchester wasn't a crier—he hadn't cried in a long, long time. But when Cas died, it was as if all those years' worth of tears came back and spilled out. He just couldn't stop.

_He did it because of me. It was my fault. He did it because he loved me._

_All I want is for him to be here again. Just one last time. Please._

Dean wiped furiously at his eyes as he felt more tears coming on. He wasn't going to cry. He _wasn't._

For the first time in days, he flung the blanket away, turned the TV off, and went into his bedroom. He and Sam had rented a house for the school year (with Gabe's help, of course), and it was nice having a room with its own bathroom and shower, and not having to share his pain with a roommate.

Dean undressed and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water run across his skin, loosening his muscles and washing the dirt away. He didn't let himself think about Cas, or the way his wings had looked charred into the ugly gray rug in their cabin. He didn't think about how he'd been touching those wings, kissing and petting them, just days before his angel died.

He was going to find Crowley. And kill him.

Dean got out of the shower and started to get dressed. Just as he was pulling his shirt on, someone started screaming. They were awful, terrible screams, and obviously male, and they just kept going on and on and on. Dean ran out of the bedroom into the hallway, holding his head and flinching as the screams got louder and louder. He ran through the living room and darted outside. The afternoon sunlight nearly blinded him after days of sitting inside thinking about Cas. He looked around wildly, searching for the source of the screams. The neighbors didn't seem to hear anything—they were all sitting calmly on their porches, reading the newspaper or something like that. School was letting out just about now. But nobody seemed to hear the cacophony of noise that echoed in Dean's mind.

That was when he realized that it was all in his head. Because the voice was Castiel's, and he was screaming for Dean.

**~o)0(o~**

"Sam, you wanna go out tonight?" Jess fell into step beside him, looking up with hope in her eyes.

"No, I'm sorry, Jess. I've gotta take care of Dean." Sam rubbed at his eyes tiredly. He probably wasn't going to be taking care of his older brother—the minute he got home, he would fall asleep.

Jess' face fell. "Oh…maybe tomorrow?"

Dean could survive a day on his own. "Sure," Sam agreed, smiling as his girlfriend perked up.

"'Kay. See you tomorrow, then." She jogged off towards her other friends, and Sam walked over to the Impala and slung his backpack into the passenger seat. For a minute he just sat back against the worn leather seat, basking in the sunlight coming through the window. He closed his eyes, telling himself, _I'll only be a couple of minutes._

Sam woke up a couple hours later, still leaning in an uncomfortable position against the Impala's front seat. It was getting dark out, and the sun was just setting behind the treetops to the west. His first thought was, _Dean! _and he checked his phone to see if his brother had called. There were a few texts, some from Jess and his other friends, but one from Gabriel, and another from an unknown number. He looked at Gabriel's text first. It was from thirty minutes ago.

**go back to ur brother. right now. its important.**

Sam clicked his phone off and threw it back into the passenger seat. He started the car up and drove home, over the speed limit, which wasn't a very Sam thing to do. He didn't bother to pick up his bag and instead ran inside, wondering frantically if Gabriel had meant that Dean was in danger. His brother wasn't in any state to handle demons or angels or…_anything._

"Dean!" He shouted, banging the door open. "Dean?!"

"What the hell, Sammy?" His brother asked from the kitchen, where he was leaning against the counter, downing a beer. Sam relaxed, smiling as he saw his brother up from the couch. The red rims around his eyes were gone and he'd obviously showered. "What's going on?"

"Oh, just…nothing." Sam didn't want to mention the angels in front of his brother, who looked like he'd finally made it past Cas' death. "Just…a worrying text."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "From who? What did it say? Why did it concern me?"

"Slow down," Sam laughed, grinning at his brother. "It isn't important now, that's what matters."

Dean swallowed the rest of his beer. "Are you sure? Because I noticed that all our candy was gone."

"I don't have any control over where Gabriel comes and goes," Sam pointed out, opening the fridge and hunting for his own beer. "Dude, what the hell? I had a six pack in here and it's gone."

Dean blushed sheepishly. "We all have our own ways of grieving."

Sam smiled to himself. Dean _was _improving. He just had to brace himself for the catch. There always was one.

"I'm going after Crowley tomorrow."

And there it was. Sam gritted his teeth in annoyance and said firmly, "no."

"Why the hell not, Sammy?" Dean asked angrily, staring at his brother defiantly. "And it's not like you can tell me what to do."

"Because I have a _life _here, Dean!" Sam retorted. "Because I have a girlfriend and I'm going to school and I have a job in mind. I thought you always wanted the best for me! I thought that you wouldn't go around on suicide missions because you wanted to _be there for me_! And let me tell you, this _is a suicide mission. _You can't go after Crowley by yourself—it would never work! And would that bring _him _back? No, it wouldn't. And I'm not coming with you until I finally get things right with Jess, until I have a weekend off, until I can find a way to leave this life!" He was practically shaking with anger. Dean just stared at him, frozen as he digested Sam's words.

"I thought you cared more about what _I _wanted. I thought you wanted me to be happy."

"I _do, _Dean, I just—" Sam sighed, trying to calm himself down. "I think Cas has been getting in the way of your clear thinking. I like him, I do, and he's great—but he's changed you, Dean, and not all ways for the better. Sometimes I think—" Sam gulped. He didn't want to say these words to Dean because he knew it would just make his older brother feel really guilty. "I think you care about Cas more than me."

Dean's expression changed to one of plain astonishment. He moved from his position against the counter and hugged Sam tightly, holding his little brother. "Nothing is more important then you, Sammy," he said firmly. "That's the way it always has been. There ain't no me if there ain't no you."

Sam smiled, hugging his brother back. "So you're going to wait to go after Crowley?"

Dean pulled back and looked at Sam in the eye, which was hard to do seeing how much taller Sam was. "Seriously, Sam. I have to do this. I have to get this weight off my shoulders. Why are you so against it?"

Sam sighed. He knew he would have to say the name sooner or later; he just didn't want to drop the bombshell on Dean when he finally had gotten over the angel's death. "Because it's not what Cas would've wanted."

Dean looked at him, anger flashing in his eyes for a mere second, then he leaned back against the counter again, all the life draining out of him. "Okay," he agreed in a small voice. "I'll wait for you."

Sam tried for a smile, even though he knew that Dean wasn't looking at him. "Hey, at least it's not that long until I have a break, right? And in the meantime you can go back to school…"

"No," Dean said, glancing back up at his brother. Well, Sam had known it was a long shot. "Maybe…later. I'm going to spend some time fixing up my baby. Over the past few weeks I've let her fall into disrepair."

Sam smiled again. Dean's Impala would help to heal his broken heart. Besides Cas, if Dean loved anything more then Sam, it was his car.

"Good." Sam grinned at his brother. "Have fun."

As he went to his room and prepared for a relaxing shower, his phone buzzed in his pocket. A text from Gabriel.

**good job Samsquatch. u make me proud.**

Sam grinned at his phone. Everything was working out so well for him. It was all going to be okay again.

* * *

**A/N: This isn't the end of the story...there's still something evil I have to do... *cackles* So stick around for a couple more chapters ;)**


	11. Chapter 11

* * * Chapter Eleven * * *

The next day, Sam dragged himself through all of his classes, unable to focus on the teacher's lecturing. When the bell finally rang, marking the end of the day, he practically ran to Jess' locker. He was there before her.

"You look good," she said in a way of greeting. "Is Dean all better?" She grabbed her backpack, slid her books in, and followed Sam out to his car.

"He's great now, actually," Sam said, smiling at her. "But let's not talk about that. I was promised a date?"

Jess leaned up on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his mouth. "Yes you were, Sam, but you've got to wait a few seconds. I forgot my history textbook in my locker. Be right back." She handed Sam her backpack and ran back into the school.

Sam's phone vibrated again. He shoved Jess' backpack into the passenger seat, got into the car himself, and opened the phone. He had a few texts: some from his friends, one from Dean, and that one from yesterday, sent from the "unknown number". He still hadn't looked at it. Curious, he opened the text.

**Hey moose. Nice to talk again. Now, do you know who let Castiel out of hell?**

Dean wiped his hands on the rag and sat back on his heels, admiring his work. The Impala glistened in the sunlight, the new coat of black paint shining in the hot afternoon sun. He'd made Sam take his beat up old car to school so he could work on his baby, but his little brother hadn't been happy about it. At least the grueling work on the car gave Dean something to think about, instead of Cas and Crowley.

Dean went inside and changed into some clean clothes. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and turned on the TV. Then he fell back on the couch and closed his eyes, welcoming the soothing background noise.

Then something heavy fell out of nowhere and crashed down on top of him.

"OH FUCKING HELL!" The Winchester almost screamed. The beer flew out of his hand and crashed to the floor, spilling liquid and shattered glass everywhere. Dean spit a string of obscenties so strong it would've made Lucifer flinch as he wriggled out from under the deadweight object.

No. It wasn't an object, it was a _person. _Its body was almost scarlet-black with blood and dirt, and it wasn't even recognizable as a male or female. Maybe it wasn't either. Its clothes were torn and it was almost naked. Its hair could've been black or blonde, Dean wouldn't have known—it was too dirty and matted with blood to tell the difference. And of course, it was unconscious. But all the same, when he took its pulse, he knew it didn't have long to live. And it didn't deserve to die, either, especially when it could be human.

So Dean dragged the "it" into his bathroom and undressed it. He could tell it was male instantly, but instead of flushing with embarrassment, he turned the shower on, shoved the man in, and climbed in after him.

He set to work with soap and shampoo, gently cleaning the blood from the various wounds. The man was really beaten up, like he'd gone through a torturing session. Dean forced thoughts of Cas in hell out of his mind and finished washing the man down. After dragging him back out of the shower, Dean toweled him down and started to bandage all of the cuts, remembering to be gentle.

That was when Dean noticed something strange about the unconscious man's chest. Because underneath all the fresh cuts and scars, there were a few long white gashes that looked familiar to Dean. Almost like cuts from an angel blade…

The man's eyes flicked open, and he sat up. His ocean-blue gaze locked with Dean's. They were eyes the Winchester thought he'd never see again, eyes that for him held love and loss and pain and sacrifice. Dean's eyes filled with tears that he couldn't, for once, hold back.

It was his angel. His angel was back from hell.

**~o)0(o~**

Sam drove back from the restaurant as fast as the speed limit allowed until he reached Jess' house. He dropped his girlfriend off and then sped home, this time way over the speed limit. He didn't even bother to lock his car, instead bolting inside the house, yelling for Dean again.

There was no response.

Had Dean already figured it out? Cas was free? Or maybe Crowley had been lying…

"Dean!" Sam shouted, crashing into Dean's bedroom. "Dean—OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"

"Get out of my room, Sammy," his older brother mumbled from the bed. Sam saw another figure pressed into the bed under Dean. So his older brother _had _noticed Castiel was back.

"I just…uh…I think I lost my shoe," Sam stammered, backing out of the room and closing the door behind him.

"I don't think either of us won the bet," a voice said from behind him. Sam spun around to find himself staring down at Gabriel, who smirked back up at him. "The sex was five months late."

"You took all of our candy anyways," Sam grumbled.

"You were saving it for me."

"Was not!" Sam cried, blushing. He had a _girlfriend. _He was _not _gay. But that was what Dean had thought before he met Cas…SAM WHY THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING THIS KIND OF THING?! He yelled at himself.

"You know I can read minds."

"You _can_?" Sam asked, horrified.

Gabriel smiled slyly. "Of course I can." He leaned up, just like Jess had earlier that day, grabbed a fistful of Sam's shirt, and kissed him. Sam's surprised noise was muffled by Gabe's lips. To his astonishment, he found that kissing the angel was a lot like kissing Jess, which was rather pleasant because they were both good kissers. So he kissed back.

"You brought him back, didn't you," Sam murmured against Gabe's skin. "You brought Cas back."

"I love him just as much as your brother does," the angel said in response, kissing Sam again. The Winchester groaned, his conflicting emotions tugging and pulling at him in different ways. He kissed Gabriel again.

"Did you like that?" the angel asked, amused, as he stepped back from Sam.

The Winchester looked at him. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He was utterly at a loss for words as to what to say. He didn't want to hurt Jess, but he also wanted to admit to Gabriel that he had actually liked the kiss. It was okay.

Gabriel nodded at Sam, still amused. "I'll be going, then."

"No, wait, Gabriel—"

The angel was already gone.

* * *

**A/N: Okkk...one more chapter before this story's over! Huge plot twist at the end, I hope you enjoy...*smirks* **


	12. Chapter 12

* * * Chapter Twelve * * *

Dean lay back in bed as he felt exhaustion spreading over his limbs and closing his eyes. He clutched Cas' hand tightly, just to make sure the angel hadn't left him, that what he'd just experienced wasn't only a dream. He closed his eyes and murmured into his pillow, "I love you, Cas."

Castiel stared up at the ceiling. In hell he had been too afraid to sleep, in case the torturing sessions reoccurred in his dreams. But now that he was with Dean, he felt safe. Secure. It was a good feeling, one he didn't find himself with often. As he shoved thoughts of hell out of his mind and replaced them with ones of Dean, he heard the Winchester mutter, "I love you, Cas." It was muffled, but clearly audible to Cas.

"I love you too, Dean," he said back, a tear of happiness sliding down his cheek. He wasn't ever going to leave Dean. They were never going to be separated…

**~o)0(o~**

Dean sat up in bed, breathing heavily. His alarm clock was beeping insistently. He groaned in annoyance—it was only 5:30. He was about to turn it off when Sam popped into his room and said, "No you don't. We're not going to be late for school on our first day."

"Come on, Sammy, I don't have to go," Dean moaned, sitting up and sliding off the bed. He already knew he'd lost the argument. "Dad won't even know. He's out hunting."

Sam grinned at him. "Who knows? This school might be different. You might even make _friends_," he teased, laughing at Dean's sour expression. "Look, just give the first day a try, for me? Pleeeaasssseee?" He gave his older brother the puppy dog eyes.

"Oh, fine, Sammy," Dean grumbled, tugging on a clean shirt. "For you." He rubbed his eyes sleepily and padded into the kitchen for some breakfast.

What he really wanted to do today was sit here and remember the details of his dream. It was already clear, but he really wanted to just write it down so he would never forget it, freeze it in his memory. He wanted to always remember the way his dream self had felt about the dream angel. It was one of the best feelings he'd ever had. The angel's name was Castiel, he remembered, and he had the prettiest blue eyes that Dean had ever seen. The first parts of his dream were fuzzy, the parts where he'd met Cas, but that didn't matter. As long as he remembered most of it.

Dean dragged himself around the house, getting ready for school. After about an hour and a half, he was already late, so he ran out to the Impala, shoved Sam into the passenger seat, and dropped him off at the high school. Then he drove over to the college, parked the Impala, and stepped out, already critizing the new school.

He glanced at his crumpled schedule—he had Spanish first. Great. Dean rolled his eyes and shoved through the mass of students gathered at the college's front doors. He made his way to the classroom and sat down in the very back. He was one of the first ones there.

The teacher handed out a sheet to everyone that was there and placed one on every empty desk. Dean was terrible at Spanish, but he scribbled down random answers to the questions and slouched back in his seat, tiredly waiting for the class to begin.

There was a rustle of fabric as someone sat down next to him. It was a boy with dark hair, wearing a tan trenchcoat. Dean smiled to himself; hadn't the angel in his dream been wearing a tan trenchcoat? His second thought was, _might as well make a new friend. For Sammy._

"Hey," he said in a friendly voice, and the other boy snapped up to look at him, his eyes wide with fear. The first thing Dean noticed was his skin, pale and drawn…maybe with stress? Then his eyes. They were the same ocean-blue as Castiel's in his dream. Dean tried to hide the shock on his face, biting his lip so hard he tasted blood.

"You okay, dude? You look like you're about to be sick," Dean said, worried a little. He frowned as the boy looked back down at his paper and started to scribble stuff down, muttering, "I'm fine."

"I'm Dean Winchester," Dean said, remembering that he was doing this all for Sammy, this was _all for Sammy. _But something about the boy's blue eyes made him stir with dejà vú.

The boy put his pencil down and slouched back down in his chair, still not looking at Dean. His voice dripped with doubt and uncertainty as he said, "My name is Castiel."

* * *

**A/N: Annddd...done! Hope you guys liked it, especially the end...which, admittedly, I wasn't too sure about. Please read, review, favorite...I guess not follow anymore because the story's over, but whatever, do what you want! I really hope you guys enjoyed :)**


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